


All Our Christmases

by Nibenhu



Category: Thunderbirds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 16:13:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12891696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nibenhu/pseuds/Nibenhu
Summary: A series of Christmases in the Tracy Household.





	1. 1st Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> The first 3 chapters were written in 2015.

Alan had changed his wishlist for Santa. When the big day came, he woke up excited, and rushed for the tree. Gordon had beaten him to it, and tossed a present to Alan “This one has your name on it Allie, maybe it’s what you asked for,” He grinned, trying to be cheerful for Alan’s benefit, but the grin didn’t quite reach his eyes. Alan looked at the package he had caught, then looked around the room. “But..I changed it…I asked for mommy to come back…” 

Gordon swallowed past the lump that immediately formed in his throat. “Maybe…maybe it got to Santa late, and he hasn’t had time..to..” Gordon couldn’t quite finish the sentence.

Alan perked up at that, “Ok!” He said and ripped into his present, not noticing Gordon look away, the tears starting to fall.

All day he would go to one of his brothers or his Dad or Grandma, asking if Mom was back yet. Everyone humoured him, the youngest. They didn’t want to ruin his christmas, so they kept saying ‘No not yet,’ Or ‘Maybe next year, you did leave it late, and Santa is a busy chap you know,’

Alan was too young to understand, everyone knew that. Scott wasn’t. He knew mom was never coming back, not this Christmas or the next. He tried to keep it up, but as the day wore on he got more and more frustrated at Alan. Until he snapped.

“Alan, mom is never coming back, Santa isn’t even real!” As soon as the words had escaped his lips he regretted it, seeing Alan’s face crumble. He made to go after him, but Virgil had seen and stopped him, glaring at Scott as he went after Alan.


	2. 2nd Christmas

Alan no longer believed in Santa. It hadn’t helped that one christmas when he came down stairs to find Jeff guzzling down milk and throwing Grandma’s cookies on the fire. Of course Alan had cried, because Santa was going to be angry and not leave any presents. This had invoked the 3rd most important talk in a boys live. Alan smiled out of the window in fondness at the memory. Of course Jeff hadn’t just outright said he didn’t exist, but he had hinted, and said that sometimes Santa just gets very busy.

He barely remembered that Christmas after mom had died, when Scott had snapped and Virgil had come after him to wipe away the tears and tell him that Scott was just tired and hadn’t meant the things he had said.

Of course now, he realised that it had always been dad, no matter what Jeff had said then, and that Mom would never come back. He was almost an adult, not a quite a child and had no time for childish things any more. But this year, he felt a little differently. He felt like he had to do something. So he had wrote the letter to Santa, maybe if there was a god he would see it too, asking for their Father back, please. For him to not be dead, please, don’t let him dead.

Christmas had come around, Grandma had tried her best to cheer things up, decorations, a tree, a lunch that she hadn’t cooked. Fake smiles plastered on faces, praying for a rescue to occupy them.

Alan came down, and looked around, he caught the present that Gordon had tossed at him and just stood there, staring at the present. of course he wouldn’t be here, Santa wasn’t real, and miracles rarely happened.


	3. 3rd Christmas

Jeff had always been proud of his boys, always. But when IR started up and they took the job on and got the job done, he had been even more proud of them. Then he had disappeared, and he had left them.

The first Christmas when he had disappeared went by unnoticed by Jeff. left in the dark, not knowing when one day ended and another started. Through it all, all he could think about was his boys and how they were doing? Memories merged into one another. At one point he called for his wife.

A day came when he heard explosions, shouts, a bright light, a kind voice he thought he recognised. Hands were put on him, he thought he was going to be tortured again, and he tried to struggle, then darkness returned.

The days passed and Jeff was back on the Island, having been rescued by the GDF. Jeff had some healing to do still, his bones ached, he felt so old. His boys had done him proud, again, like he knew they would. Alan was the one that sat with him the most. They would talk, or Alan would just talk, telling him about the rescues they had made in his absence.

Christmas fast approached, decorations were hung, the family were happier, Alan was happier. He helped Grandma with hanging tinsel and fairy lights, they decorated Jeff’s room too, though he was now able to leave his room.

Alan sat in his room, thinking back to last Christmas. He sat down at his desk and wrote a letter, even though he had no idea who would read it, he felt someone must read those letters.

Dear Santa

Don’t worry about me, I have everything and everyone I need now.

Alan Tracy.


End file.
